


Earth Angel

by RayneRose



Series: Earth Angel [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Books, First Kiss, Inspired by Music, M/M, Short & Sweet, Shy Castiel, Vonnegut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-13
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-19 06:37:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1459597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RayneRose/pseuds/RayneRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is the owner of a bookstore called Earth Angel. One day, a beautiful man named Dean Winchester comes in looking for something new to read. Castiel recommends Vonnegut, and soon the two begin forming a bond.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Earth Angel

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Death Cab for Cutie's rendition of Earth Angel
> 
> I love bookstore AUs. I've been reading a lot of Vonnegut lately, so I thought I'd incorporate his books into this story. I can't say for sure that I'm going to expand on this verse, but for now let's assume there will be more to come.

Inspired by this track- [Earth Angel](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dLK4eorLDBw)

 

**"We have to continually be jumping off cliffs and developing our wings on the way down." -Kurt Vonnegut**

 

                Castiel can remember everything about the day he met Dean Winchester. Fall had just kicked off, littering the streets with brilliantly coloured leaves. The scent of rain leaked through the windows of Castiel’s little bookstore, mingling with the smell of dust and old novels. It was his personal heaven; it was his soul. He settled onto his stool behind the counter and pulled out _The Unburied_ by Charles Palliser, intent on finishing it.

                The cheery jingle of the bell above the door brought Castiel’s attention away from his book and onto the man entering his shop. Droplets of rainwater poured off the man’s leather jacket in rivulets, and he took a moment to shake the moisture off his clothes before he stepped further into the store. “Hello.” He greeted Castiel, smiling warmly.

                Castiel would have answered, had he not been distracted by the constellation of freckles covering every inch of the man’s face. And those _eyes_ ; no one should be allowed to have eyes that shade of green. Not to mention the lips that turned down into a slight frown as Castiel kept staring. Internally shaking himself, he finally forced his mouth to form words.

                “H-hello.” Oh yes, wonderful start. Clearing his throat, he tried again. “Can I help you find something?”

                Green Eyes (the nickname Castiel had assigned the man in his mind) lifted his mouth into a smile again and walked up to the counter. Leaning against it, he asked, “Yeah, I was actually wondering if you could recommend a book for me? See, I don’t know about many popular authors, and I figured you could at least point me in the right direction.” Up close, Castiel could see the moisture from the rain on the man’s face sparkling under the dim fluorescent lights of the shop. His hair was sticking up in wet spikes, and it took all of Castiel’s willpower not to reach out and run his hands through the golden-brown strands.

                He scanned his eyes over spines and titles, searching the room for an idea as to what he should suggest. His eyes settled on a familiar cover. “Vonnegut.” He said, coming out from behind the counter to pick up the book.  He handed it over to Green Eyes, who took it with delicate fingers that brushed lightly over Castiel’s. The man raised his eyebrows when he read the title.

                “ _Bagombo Snuff Box_? That sounds like a heavy metal band.”

                Castiel chuckled. “It’s a collection of short stories, all of which have quite inspirational messages attached to them. The title story, Bagombo Snuff Box, is my favourite out of them all. I’d recommend reading this before tackling Vonnegut’s most famous work, _Slaughterhouse Five_.” The words flowed freely from Castiel now that he was back in his element. He could talk about books for days, but once the topic changed course, Castiel was lost.

                The man nodded, thumbing through the book. “This looks great. Thanks….” He trailed off, searching for a nametag and not finding one.

                “Castiel.” Wincing, Castiel waited for the mocking laughter that was sure to come.

                But Green Eyes didn’t laugh. He smiled wide and asked, “Like the angel?”

                Castiel blinked, surprised. “Yes, like the angel.” The man looked at him with something akin to wonder, and Castiel had to turn away before he did something untoward.

                Slipping back behind the safety of the counter, he fiddled with buttons on the cash register. “That’ll be $6.50.” he mumbled, suddenly nervous again. The man pulled his wallet out of a back pocket and started taking out dollar bills. As Castiel rang him up and looked for a bag to protect the book from the rain outside, Green Eyes glanced around the shop.

                “I sometimes pass this place on my way to work, if the main road has too much traffic. I’ve always wondered about the name, Earth Angel. Did you pick that because of your own name?”

                “Sort of. My mom used to listen to the song “Earth Angel” a lot, and she always used to call me that. She’d say I was her earth angel, her little miracle. When she died a few years ago, I decided to name the store after her. She always did love books.” He smiled fondly, old memories stirring up.

                Green Eyes took the bag containing his book from Castiel and gave him a gentle, reassuring smile. “Bet she would be real proud of what you’ve done here, Cas.” He said quietly. Castiel swallowed thickly and mumbled a soft, “Thank you.”

                The man moved away towards the door, flipping up the collar of his jacket to ward off the rain. Hand on the doorknob, he half turned to address Castiel.

                “I’m Dean, by the way. Dean Winchester.” He threw a quick wave over his shoulder before pushing open the door and trekking back out into the downpour.

                Castiel found himself unable to move for a few moments. _Cas_ , he realized with a start. _He called me Cas._

{----}

                Exactly a week later, Dean came back.

                “ _Dude_.” he gushed loudly, startling Castiel. “Those stories were awesome! I mean, some of them had lovey dovey crap, but even those were still good! And you were right about the story with the same title as the book. It was definitely the best.”

                Castiel couldn’t help the wide grin that broke out across his face. “I’m so glad you enjoyed it. Would you like to read another one of Vonnegut’s or something new?”

                Dean thought about it for a second, eyebrows scrunching together in a way that Castiel found adorable.

                “I think I’d like to stick with him.” He decided at last. “Do you have any more?” Castiel nodded and led Dean into a far corner of the shop, where he kept his overstocked books.

                “I’ve always loved Vonnegut, so I collect as many copies of his books as I can. Sometimes I give a few away for free, so everyone can enjoy them.” Running his hands over the shelf, he pulled out _Timequake_.  “This is a wonderful one.” Castiel said, handing it to Dean. “Since you finished the first one so quickly, would you like to take two this time? So you don’t have to make another trip so soon?”

                Dean rubbed his hands over the cover of the book, suddenly appearing shy. “I don’t mind coming in here more often. I’d actually been planning on it.” He glanced at Castiel out of the corner of his eye, a blush creeping up his neck. Castiel wanted to read between the lines and assume that Dean meant he wanted to see him more, but that would be absurd. Wouldn’t it?

                Despite his fears, he answered with the truth.

                “I’d like that.”

{----}

 

                There’s always that one person that makes your day infinitely better. For Castiel, that person was Dean. His trips to the bookstore became a weekly occurrence, and Castiel found himself watching the door expectantly during slow business hours. Somehow, Dean always managed to come in when no one else had Castiel’s attention. It was always the best part of his week, when the bell over the door would chime and announce Dean’s arrival. Castiel was happy.

                 Until a week went by with no sign of Dean.

                 Castiel tried his best not to dwell on it. Still, he couldn’t help but dredge up images of Dean lying face down in a ditch by the side of the road, or out with some gorgeous girl (because surely, the man must be straight). Of course, he could have simply decided he was tired of chatting with the weird bookseller who stuttered every time Dean complimented him, or praised one of his books suggestions, or just looked at him in a certain way. Castiel was big enough to admit that he was falling hard for Dean Winchester; and for a moment, he had thought the other man might feel the same way.

                 Evidently not.

                 Castiel was sorting misplaced books and trying in vain not to glance at the door every five seconds, when a gust of cold air breezed through the shop as someone burst in through the door. Dropping the stack of books from his hands, Castiel whipped around quickly, ready to defend himself.

                 Of course, it wasn’t a robber ( _Really_ , Castiel thought to himself, _who’s going to rob a bookstore?_ ).

                 It was Dean.

                 “Cas,” the man panted, “I gotta-” he doubled over, trying to regain his breath. A thin sheen of sweat lay across his forehead, and his hair was mussed as if he’d been running his hands through it.

                 Finally he straightened and continued, “I gotta tell you something. I had this whole speech prepared, about how I was driving by here one day and I saw you through the window, and I wanted to talk to you but I wasn’t sure what to say, because you’re this smart, nerdy book guy and I’m just a high school dropout. But then I got to thinking, what if you think that’s weird? What if I’m just another random customer you talk to for an hour, and give Vonnegut books to, and look at like they’re the most interesting person in the whole damn world? So I chickened out, and I wasn’t going to come back. I didn’t want to be just another person to you.” Dean took a few steps closer to Castiel, who was still frozen in place. “But then I realized you’re not just another person to me.  I’ve never really felt like this about anyone, so I have no idea what the hell I’m doing here. These past few weeks have been some of the best of my life, and that’s all ‘cause of you. I don’t want that to go away.” Dean hesitantly placed his hands on Castiel’s shoulders and held his gaze. “So, Cas….you maybe wanna go get dinner with me tonight, and we can talk about that last book I bought?”

                 Dean’s voice was steady, but his hands were shaking like leaves. There was pure unbridled hope in his eyes, and it was that beautiful hope that made Castiel do what he did next.

                 Gripping Dean’s jacket in both hands, he shoved him roughly against the closest bookshelf and pressed their lips together. Books tumbled to the ground as Castiel kissed the man with everything he had. Dean tensed up for less than a second before he was sliding his mouth along Cas’s. Strong arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him closer, and Cas sighed into Dean’s mouth. Only when they were both gasping for air did they pull away from each other.

                  “Wow.” Dean breathed, burying his face in Castiel’s neck. “If this isn’t nice, what is?”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Give credit where credit is due:  
> "If this isn't nice, what is?" - Kurt Vonnegut, Timequake


End file.
